The journey with Anya was a welcome change of pace. The open road, the fresh air, and the company of a beautiful woman – it was a far better than what had happened in that tavern.
It was nice to get back to the same routine. I noticed that Anya looked better, but I knew it would take time for her to be well again.
We rode for hours, the landscape changing gradually from rolling hills to dense forests. Anya, despite her delicate appearance, was a skilled rider, her body moving in perfect harmony with her horse. I found myself admiring her.
I decided to start some conversation and ask about her life. Maybe that would make her think of something else and not about the fact we almost died recently.
"You're very good with horses," I remarked.
Anya smiled. "Thank you. I've been riding since I was a child. My family has a large estate, with plenty of land to explore."
